Tuesday, March 21, 2017

Exposure leads to more exposure

"And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?"

No surprises here. The nodule above my nostril turned out to be a big nothing. Big being the operative word, albeit I concede somewhat subjective.

Since I was less than one percent worried that it was something, I was happy only to be able to name it. A benign fibrous papule, or angiofibroma. I could tell immediately from the cheerful telephone voice of the newsbearer that it wasn't anything concerning.

You don't have to do anything further, she said. I of course said, but what if I want it gone? She said, we can remove it. That was good news.

I asked if it would be problematic to remove it, considering my shave biopsy hasn't healed yet. She said, that's no problem, we can't get you in until the end of the month anyway, you should be healed by then.

I asked if I'd be trading in my scar for a bigger scar. She said, the new scar would be linear, which as far as I'm concerned is better than a pancake shaped scar. I asked if Dr. E. would be doing the removal and she said, no, we have specialists that do these surgeries.

So it's booked. My nose goes under the knife, again, on March 31, with Dr. P. doing the honors.

And naturally part of me wonders if we couldn't have skipped this interim misery and gone straight to an excision, if a more experienced doctor would have been able to diagnose it with reasonable certainty, instead of it/me having to be sliced first.

I'm still dealing with ointment and bandaids on my nose, and I get to do it all again right about the time I get shut of all this aftercare.

Since it's a case of cosmetics, not cancer, I shall officially stop complaining about it now. At least between now and March 31 you won't hear one more nose peep from me. After that, all bets are off. If they weren't, you'd be pretty safe betting that I'll be whining again after the knob job.

It's been a quiet interlude here, so I only had to go out socially once with a bandaided nose, to a dinner with a former colleague of Neil and his wife. Concealer and powder worked more recently when we met friends for Dim Sum, but now I'm back to the ointment-bandaid rigamarole. Nothing much is on the calendar between now and month-end, except an eye doctor appointment and a baby shower.

April is wide open right now as well. It's looking like our next North Carolina trip won't be until mid-May at the soonest. We'll be picking out the granite slabs for our counters, making landscaping plans and designing closet upgrades.

I've been jonesing to plan one hiking trip between now and moving time.

Bead sales have picked up a bit, at least compared to the last slow spell. I did another round on the bargain bead site, and once again I did really well for a week or so and then things tapered off.

So I guess that's how I'll play it. Stay off it for a while and if things get impossibly slow, give it another go.

I had a few buyers leverage the heck out of their $3.50 shipping, causing me to pay for priority shipping because their boxes weighed more than one pound, and paying for insurance to boot. But I'm not complaining about that.

Because on the flip side, there are always a few people who sit tight with a $6 purchase and I wind up having to print an invoice and a shipping label and use tissue paper and a bubble envelope. Hypothetically that cost is built into my shipping fees but just barely. It's more of a psychological thing though, to have someone win what should have been a $12 pair of beads for $6 and then they are done.

I know, think of it as a loss leader. Hopefully they will get it and love it so much that they will come back for many more, at full price. Except, no, it doesn't work that way. Someone said it well the other day, in the context of being asked for a bead donation to a good cause, in return for which you get "exposure." She said, exposure just leads to more exposure.

I'm pretty sure I've never made a sale on the basis of any beads I donated to a good cause. Yes, it's nice to know that fish bead that I would have happily sold for $25 raised $200 for the cause, but it won't pay the power bill or buy me any new glass.

I've been playing with silver leaf and frit and feeling chuffed with the results, but, as has been my chronic recent history, focal beads don't sell for me. Not even pretty ones like these.

Today, both Neil and I had jury duty. What are the odds of that? We drove together which naturally meant that I was called for a panel and he was dismissed. And, why yes, I was seated. Hello Juror number 5.

It's a criminal case and that's all I am allowed to say right now, except that the trial is only expected to last for one day. I go back tomorrow and with luck we'll get 'er done. The judge did tell us to make arrangements in case we need to stay late.

I'll be back with a full report. And don't forget, Saturday is the Bead Soup Blog Party reveal day. I've got one piece made and one more in progress in my mind.

Am I procrastinating? Guilty as charged.

We might kiss when we are alone
When nobody's watching
We might take it home
We might make out when nobody's there
It's not that we're scared
It's just that it's delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

We might live like never before
When there's nothing to give
Well how can we ask for more
We might make love in some sacred place
The look on your face is delicate

So why do you fill my sorrow
With the words you've borrowed
From the only place you've known
And why do you sing Hallelujah
If it means nothing to you
Why do you sing with me at all?

(Damien Rice)

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